


Sometimes the Darkness

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Difference, Dominance, Established Relationship, M/M, Submission, bite marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak. Bashir. What isn't said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes the Darkness

Another day of interminable exile. A night like any other, but in some ways quite remarkable. Garak did not often allow himself this particular indulgence, but when he offered the subtle signals — a glance over lunch, a certain quality of smile, the offer to return a book or loan a special piece of music — his partner, usually oblivious to the most blatant hints from others, always eagerly answered.

"Oh God, Garak…!" Julian was on his elbows and knees, moaning softly, his golden skin finely patterned with bite-marks arrayed over his slender body like filigree. Garak, with a torturer's skill, had layered sensation on sensation and provocation on provocation until his Human lover was shaking with barely contained tension, aroused nearly to the point of suffering. "Oh, God, _please!_ —"

"Soon." He applied another lingering bite to the side of the boy's slim throat, delighting in the little jerk and shiver it provoked, then whispered into his elegant unadorned ear: "Soon, my lovely child. Be patient."

He felt Julian's body struggle beneath him, drawing deep breaths as the younger man tried to bring his reactions under control, to remain immobile as the Cardassian male had commanded. Garak let him enjoy the illusion that he was going to succeed for a full five seconds before sliding his left hand under the wide-spread thigh and running his fingers lightly up and down the painfully erect cock: a teasing touch, but enough to provoke a wild cry and a thrust into the circle of his hand. He immediately stopped stroking and caught hard hold of Julian's hip, hissing sternly: " _No._ " With a gorgeous little whimper Julian obeyed and pulled back to his original position, his firm buttocks nestled against Garak's hips, although his breath was now coming in shallow gasps.

Garak smiled against his hair and let him hear it in his voice: " _Very_ good."

"Please…" He sounded dazed now, a little lost, and Garak knew that he'd entered precisely the psychological state his mentor desired: a place of pure acceptance, of complete surrender. He was utterly pliant, as if Garak would not let him fall; he _trusted_ him, and that was an aphrodisiac more potent to the Cardassian than any other. The vulnerability and innocence of this brilliant, accomplished, confident man, the way he came apart under Garak's hands — the way he willingly opened himself to be taken… in the bitter desert of his exile there was nothing sweeter.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He couldn't resist teasing him, the delicious games of promise and denial.

A pause. A desperate indrawn breath, then a long sigh: "Yes… oh, I…"

Garak reached down again, exploring with one careful fingertip the slick fluid welling from the tip of the Human's erection, just to make him cry out deep in his throat. "You… what?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"Fuck me." A soft submissive whisper. Julian always lost his ability to engage in linear conversation when he got to this point.  "Please. Don't — oh, _please_ , please, I need —" A harder push back, grinding against the ridged slit at Garak's groin. " — _need_ you —"

The delicious display of unabashed wantonness, as disobedient as it was, made a truer and more vibrant hiss rise in Garak's throat; he felt Julian tremble in recognition of the signal, his tousled head falling forward as he braced his arms against the mattress, as Garak finally allowed his penis to emerge from its sheath, sliding against the cleft of Julian's ass. "How very gratifying, my dear Doctor," he growled as he pulled back, then moved forward with ruthless force, and Julian's wail was pained and joyous and ineffably beautiful. " _Most_ gratifying indeed."

Unlike Julian, his ability to speak complete and correct sentences never deserted him, even if they tended to become rather abbreviated.

The Human was very vocal in his pleasure, the volume and intensity of his cries rising steadily, inarticulate but communicating volumes; for his part Garak was virtually silent, concentrating on punishing the pretty boy for his naiviete, his irresistibility, his damnable ability to seek friendship in defiance of all evidence and all odds. When Julian came in his hand, throbbing and pulsing and nearly screaming, Garak closed his eyes and briefly considered holding off and riding his young protégé through to another climax, painful for being forced, but elected instead to be merciful. As he filled Julian's ass with dusky grey semen, indelibly marking him with a pheromonal scent that would warn any other Cardassian male off of _his_ prey, he was peripherally aware of Julian's sobs against his folded forearms: "Thank you… oh, _thank_ you…"

It took Garak several seconds to catch his breath again. When he had, he placed his hand, sticky with Julian's semen, on that smooth hip and guided the lovely Doctor off of his still-everted erection and down onto the rumpled sheets of Julian's bed. Gazing down on the exhausted body of his lover, at the slimly muscled back rising and falling with deep greedy breaths, at the dark eyes blissfully closed and the smile that seemed too broad for that narrow face, he briefly imagined how the Starfleet officer would look bound to an interrogation rack, his perfect skin slashed with the marks of a whipping, his secrets spilling out of him like blood or tears or endearments.

"I love you," Julian whispered dreamily, his eyes still closed. Speaking to the night, eternally hopeful, trusting in what he could never clearly see.

Garak placed his hand on the nape of that delicate neck, and did not break it. "I know," he replied with a strange smile of his own, letting enigmatic silence serve as a coda.

Sometimes the darkness heard, and answered.

THE END


End file.
